See No Evil, Hear No Evil, Do No Evil...
by magz
Summary: Events that happen during the Slam, and afterwards... Unfinished as of 01.24.2002. (Third chapter added 01.25.2002)
1. See No Evil...

1 See No Evil…  
  
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All Pitch Black material copyrighted by the right people, all my material copyrighted me. Please R & R, and feel free to send any comments:  
  
magz@charter.net  
  
http://webpages.charter.net/noise  
  
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There was a struggle. Somewhere, high above him, the sounds of it wafting down the open floor to his ears. Riddick cocked his head upwards, peering through the darkness enshrouding him. He blinked rapidly, trying to focus his eyes. The pain had dulled to a low throb in the front of his brain, easing to a slight annoyance at his temples, which he currently rubbed furiously with his fingertips.  
  
The struggle grew louder, and he saw shapes approaching the rail far above him, and across the open compound. They held a wriggling prisoner above their heads, struggling to keep a grip on him as they neared the drop. The prisoner renewed his struggles, fighting with all his strength to get free from his captors.  
  
Riddick moved his eyes down to ground level, directly beneath the characters. There were several stacked boxes, filled with what he wasn't sure, but they were far enough out that they would end up being what broke his fall. Riddick blinked, straining his eyes to focus and pulled them back up several stories to the guards and the prisoner, barely in enough time to watch as he was tossed out over the railing.  
  
He didn't scream. Arms and legs flailed uselessly in the air for the short three seconds it took to fall the five or six stories, and with a sickening crunch, land amid the boxes. The boxes seemed to explode from the sudden impact of the body, wood planks flying outwards every direction. Along with the pieces of broken wood came material, old discarded prisoner uniforms. Everything settled quickly, wood creaking as it fell still, and nothing moved. Several stories above, the guards laughed, sent down a few hearty good tidings, and disappeared back into the light.  
  
Riddick grunted, leaning forward on his knees as he peered at the crash site. He couldn't discern the body, hidden as it was beneath the rubble. He leaned back, resting his head against the wall he sat against, the coldness a welcoming aid to the headache. He waited for upwards of a half hour, but there was no movement. Riddick had a few hours before he wanted to put his plan into action, and had nothing against calmly sitting here, letting his eyes and mind adjust to the new surgery. The pink and the purple shades of the crash site hadn't moved, save for the mouse he saw skitter his way fifteen minutes ago. Riddick closed his aching eyes, they screamed in relief, and let his self be lulled into a light slumber, something desperately needed.  
  
An hour and fifteen minutes later, he was awakened at the sound of a slight groan. His eyes snapped open; they focused immediately, everything clear and precise, and easily discernable in the blackness. Riddick allowed himself a pleased grin. The headache had dulled to nothingness, and his eyes felt as they always had, but with the added extra of night sight.  
  
From the crash site a white flash in his vision indicated movement. A plank fell from it's tilted perch to the ground, revealing a hand. Riddick watched as the fingers wiggled, searching for a hold, a point of leverage, leaving bloody fingerprints on the concrete. The hand found nothing, and the arm could move no further than a few inches before there was a gasp of pain from within the boxes and tangled material. The moving ceased for five minutes, Riddick stayed rooted to his spot and waited. He was surprised that the prisoner was alive at all, so far had the fall seemed and unforgiving his landing spot.  
  
And then suddenly a rough, spasmodic jerk of the left arm, forcing off several planks of wood that pinned it down; there was a loud crack at the movement, coming from the shoulder of the prisoner. Another gasp of pain, but the arm didn't fall back. It groped outwards, fingers feeling at the floor. They found something to hold onto, a crack in the cement it looked to Riddick, and dug in. Then a kick, moving the left leg up and out for leverage. The prisoner pushed off the ground with his foot, at the same time pulling his upper body with his arm, and succeeded in pulling out from beneath the rubble, moving just enough to be clear of the discarded uniforms and the broken wood.  
  
More silence, and still Riddick remained in his sitting position, content to watch how far the prisoner got. The heavy breathing dwindled down, calm breathing preceding over the hurting gasps. In another ten minutes, the prisoner moved again. Using his left arm to push up his torso, the prisoner managed to pull in his left leg and get into a half hazard kneeling position, with no weight at all on the right limbs. Gasping for breath again, he groped for the nearest box; shuffling the few inches he had to in order to grab a corner.  
  
Riddick cocked his head, watching as the prisoner leaned that way for a while, letting his breath catch up. Riddick mused silently over the dogged strength that was being shown, and then began to examine the fallen prisoner. He hadn't been given a head shot, and he was unable to discern age from the hand, the only skin he'd seen, and even that had been covered in scratches and blood from the fall. The hair had grown as long as the shoulder, dirty and tangled, and he could see the damp spots of blood. The uniform hung loosely over the body, leaving him to guess at a tall, thin body figure, like most prisoners.  
  
The prisoner had managed to pull himself to his feet, another crack issuing from his midsection halting him halfway. His right leg dragged uselessly, and his right arm was pressed tightly to his side; clearly, he had landed on his ride side, damaging both the arm and leg, and probably the ribs, Riddick mused.  
  
Once up, the prisoner stopped, breathing heavily and laying across the box, staying in that position for several moments.  
  
Riddick felt his mind begin to wander, running the struggle, the fall, and the recovery through is mind. His imagination concocted several wild scenarios, giving the prisoner a different countenance each time. Riddick curbed his thoughts, letting a grin creep into his features. A wild, dangerous man that for some reason deserved to be thrown down below, into the dark where he had no chance of survival. Unless he could somehow pay for a similar surgery that Riddick himself had undergone, the Shiners would get him.  
  
Riddick curbed his thoughts at the sudden movement from the box. The prisoner, pushing off with his left arm had turned himself completely around, shifting just the slightest so that he was facing Riddick.  
  
So that she was facing Riddick.  
  
Riddicks jaw dropped, eyes widening as the feminine features struck like a lightning bolt. It was a woman, approaching thirty, tired and pain filled eyes staring straight at him, tears leaving clean rivers of wetness on the dirt and blood smudged face. Her head titled to one side, she blinked against the pain coursing through her body, and she smiled.  
  
Riddick stared, unmoving.  
  
Then the woman sagged, her eyes rolling backwards as she collapsed in a heap, unconscious before she hit.  
  
Riddick was up and moving across the short distance to her body instantly, kneeling next to her only a second after she'd fallen. He wasted only one moment, deciding quickly what he should do. And then he was up, moving quickly across the open compound with the lifeless woman in his arms, heading directly for the doctors he had just come from.  
  
1.1 Chapter 2 coming soon… 


	2. Hear No Evil...

1 Hear No Evil…  
  
When Leigh awoke, it was dark. Her body was stiff, and for a moment, she felt as if she could never move again. And then slowly she pulled her left hand up to her face where she could barely discern the outline. Her right was tape to her chest, which was also swathed in bandages, her arm held immobile. She used her left to push herself to a sitting position, uselessly looking around the room. A sliver of light on the far wall gave way to a door, but she was in no hurry to open it.  
  
Leigh prodded at her legs. Her right was as taped up as her chest, a splint from the knee down. She fell back to the pillow, taking a deep breath. It didn't hurt anymore, breathing, she was happy at that fact. Whoever had fixed her up did a good job, and she was sure the dull ache in her side and limbs would soon give way to the flexibility she once knew.  
  
The door swung open, a well-rounded balding man silhouetted in the square of light. Leigh shaded her eyes against the glare, gave a small wave.  
  
"How you doing?" he asked, staying within the doorframe.  
  
Leigh gave a small smile, nodded her head.  
  
He nodded his own in return. "Good, good. Go back to sleep." He left, closing the door softly behind him. Leigh folded her arm beneath her head, taking in a painless deep breath, and within moments, was fast asleep.  
  
Several hours later, Leigh's eyes snapped open, instantly awake in the dark. A second later, the man from before entered the room. The room's lights came on, dimmed halfway so they weren't too bright. The portly man walked over, knelt down and began examining her leg, his gentle fingers removing the swabbing to check the knee. She grunted in slight surprise at seeing the doctor, and sat up quickly. He smiled up at her and began replacing the bandages. She instantly noticed his Grecian features and smiled.  
  
"Sorry, hun. You looked tired, so I let you sleep. How does everything feel?"  
  
Leigh shrugged, waggled her hand in the air for 'so-so'.  
  
"I'm Harold, call me Harry," the doctor said, straightening up. "Riddick was the guy that brought you in, but he's been gone for a while now."  
  
Leigh raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Riddick. Big, dark guy that … you don't remember, you were out. He's out of here, by now." Harry leaned against the wall, casting the woman a speculative look. "You're a mute, aintcha?"  
  
Leigh smiled sadly, nodded. Her hand went involuntarily to her neck, rubbing it gently. Harry pursed his lips. "How?"  
  
Leigh broke out in sign language, left hand flying with several different pantomimes before Harry began laughing. Leigh grinned, dropping her hand, shrugging in her own fashion of laughter.  
  
"Sorry I asked." An even wider grin, then: "Are you greek?"  
  
Leigh broke out in a smile, nodding happily. Harold responded with an equally joyous look, then grew quickly serious.  
  
"Listen, hun, you can stay here till you can walk on your own. But then we'll really have to get you shined, cuz otherwise you won't last a day down here." He waved off Leigh's questioning look. "I'll explain later. For now, you just get better."  
  
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Two years later, Riddick tripped over a discarded shopping bag.  
  
He stumbled, his balance escaping him, and fell forwards through the crowd. One flailing arm caught the coat of a passerby, and he pulled her down with him. He smacked his elbow, a jolt of quick pain traveling down his arm from the funny bone. He rolled to his back, and was quickly up on his feet.  
  
Riddick stretched his arms out, balancing himself, and looked about for the woman he had bowled down. She was up, moving swiftly away with a quick backwards glance.  
  
She wore wrap around sunglasses, hiding her eyes from him, but he could not mistake the features.  
  
"Hey!" He was up without hesitation, moving quickly through the crowd after the woman he had saved in the slam. "Hey!!"  
  
"HEY!"  
  
Riddick paused at the authoritative voice. A large hand landed on his shoulder, gripped tightly, and shoved him out of the way. He careened off into the crowd, gaining more quickly than before his balance, watching aghast as several uniformed mercs pushed through the crowd in pursuit of his same quarry. Rebounding off the crowd, he followed in the wake of the mercenaries.  
  
The woman veered left, zigzagging through the crowded area, towards a busy street. She never paused, shoving people out of her way and leaping over benches. The crowd began to lesson and she began to sprint, putting distance between herself and her pursuers.  
  
The mercs fanned out, each pulling out a gun of some sorts and training it on the fleeing woman as they ran. Riddick curved to the right of the suits, skirting their ranks as he quickly gained on both them and the woman.  
  
The merc nearest him suddenly dropped to one knee, stabling his arm and took a shot. A hundred feet away, the woman staggered, hand flying to her neck. She pulled something out, and continued on. Riddick twisted around a concrete column, suddenly found himself in a quite empty lane of foot traffic, and doubled his speed. He passed quickly the leading merc, obviously the captain from the orders he was shouting, and seconds later, Riddick was in the street. A car flew past him, missing only by inches. Riddick turned to the left, saw the woman running directly towards him, and trailing behind her the mercs.  
  
She was flying down the sidewalk, coat billowing out behind her, legs pumping and spiraled hair trailing behind. Her foot gave way beneath her and she went down, landing on her shoulder so that she rolled. She executed the move perfectly, but as she went to spring back to her feet, her foot quitted entirely on her, slipping out behind her body. She fell heavily to the ground, but refused to give up, struggling still to stand.  
  
Riddick found himself beside her, having run directly towards her as she came at him. He knelt, scooped her up with an all to familiar feeling, and ran straight towards the mercs.  
  
The men stopped, blinking in confusion at what they took for a Good Samaritan. Riddick headed openly for the captain. He had stopped as well, staring with a slack jaw at the approaching Riddick.  
  
As Riddick grew closer, his speed decreased until he was walking, almost swaggering towards the mercs. They holstered their weapons, smiling to each other as the closed in on him, some even congratulating him on so quickly and efficiently capturing the criminal.  
  
Riddick flashed a smile to a few, then a larger one to the captain, who was now staring at him with frank suspicion. And then Riddick was in front of him, and without ever breaking stride he executed a perfect round house. The heel of his boot caught the surprised captain in the temple, and he landed in a heap on the ground. Riddick was over him and sprinting again before the others had a chance to react.  
  
He ran back towards the crowd, which easily opened up for him and made an easy path through to the other side. Sounds of chasing mercs died within a minute, and no one wasted a second look at the man carrying the unconscious woman.  
  
He'd reached the opposite street, crossed it and began making his way south through an empty alley. The sound of the gun clicking into place, and the pressure on his stomach, pulled him to a stop. He glanced down at the woman in his arms. She was staring at him silently; an unreadable expression on her features, but the gun pressed against his sternum got more than enough across.  
  
Riddick blinked behind his goggles, a slow frown turning down his lips. "I didn't have to help you. I could drop you right now, or take you right back to them."  
  
Not a thing. The shades were too dark for him to see her eyes, and the emotion he could normally read in others eyes was hidden from him. The gun dug into his chest, and he took an involuntary step back, as if to distance him self. After a moment, he slowly tipped her, placing her feet on the ground then withdrawing his arms, pulling back.  
  
"Your hair is different," he said quietly.  
  
Her head tilted.  
  
"I saved you in the slam. It was straight, then." He took another step backwards, shrugging and crossing his arms. "Remember me?"  
  
She shook her head. She tucked the gun back into the holster beneath her jacket, and then took her own step backwards.  
  
"What?" Riddick said. "I've saved you twice now. Don't I even get a thankyou?"  
  
She held up a hand, two fingers, twirled, dropped it. Riddick blinked. She cast him a bright smile, turned and walked away.  
  
Riddick watched her disappear out the mouth of the alley, watched her go; he waited ten minutes, hoping against hope, and common sense. He finally left the other direction, sullenly and feeling quite dejected. He hung a right, threading his way through the people of Quixon, towards The Achilles Heel.  
  
Chapter 3 soon… 


	3. Do No Evil...

1 Do No Evil …  
  
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I'm writing this entirely too quick people! I'm normally extremely, extremely slow … I'm rather impressed with myself. :] Thanks for the comments, I'm glad others are enjoying it as much as myself. -Magz  
  
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"Riddick? … Riddick, you alive?"  
  
Riddick blinked back to reality, pulling his gaze from the depths of his gin to the bar tender in front of him. Keith raised a questioning brow.  
  
"Geez, man. You've been more quiet than usual for the past week. Ever since that chick down town …"  
  
Riddick leaned back on the bar stool, waving his hand indifferently. "Over and done with. I was just thinking about other things."  
  
"Sure," Keith laughed doubtfully. "Greek chicks that don't automatically fall in love with you. Not all dames like the badass image, bud. Maybe don a suit once in a while, see what ladies you get then." Keith refilled the gin, dropping a few more ice cubes and an olive in.  
  
Riddick glanced down at his button up shirt, collar open and jacket hanging over the back of the stool. "I am wearing a suit."  
  
"Sure," Keith said again. "Only 'cuz the boss happens to be here today. Otherwise we won't catch you dead lookin' proper."  
  
"Shut the hell up."  
  
"Speaking of bosses…"  
  
"Richard! Richard!"  
  
Riddick turned at the formal use of his name. A large bearded man sank into the stool next to him, clapping him on the back. James stood a head taller than Riddick, and was built just as powerfully. James had almost twenty years on Riddick, aging almost fifty, but nothing about his countenance gave clue to that.  
  
"Jim."  
  
James flashed a grin, straight and even pearl teeth glinting in the strobes of the bar, perusing Riddick as he stroked the red goatee on his chin. "Richard, my boy, we must talk." He took a breath, helped himself to the glass placed in front of him by Keith, who quickly removed himself from the scene, then looked seriously at Riddick. "I'm having problems."  
  
"With the bar?" asked Riddick.  
  
Both involuntarily gave a glance at their surroundings. The Achilles Heel was packed to the rafters, people of all types mingling at the tables and dance floor, music turned up to the point of deafening. The strobes and lights situated at various intervals flashed on and off; it was too bright for Riddick to not wear his goggles, but not so dark he could go without them.  
  
"No, you've done well with the bar since you took it over. Thanks again, by the way. It lifted a lot of worries from my feeble mind."  
  
"I enjoy it, Jim," answered Riddick, truthfully enough. The managing position was easy. He left paperwork to his helpers, people like Keith, and enjoyed the free drinks and the party atmosphere. James, referred to him by a mutual friend, had offered him the job with no strings attached; James owned the bar and a few others spread around, as well as dipping into a few underworld businesses. Riddick desired some down time after his recent events; a few months to let the trail behind him grow cold. He'd been at The Achilles Heel for six months now, and despite the growing feeling of boredom, his continued to show up day after day.  
  
"That's good, that's always good." James paused. "Look, the problems … they involve my other business. I'd rather not get into it with you, since you aren't involved. My daughter was harangued the other day by the local mercs … they tried to pay her to turn me in. She wouldn't answer any questions and they let her go without any problems, but I've asked her to keep low since then. I don't want to ask you to be her bodyguard …"  
  
Riddick let the silence stew a minute, then nodding, said: "But you want me to keep an eye on her?"  
  
James let out a breath, quite relieved. "Would you? She's very anti social, and has a habit of causing more trouble than needed." He rubbed at his forehead. "She's always been a headache. Such a loving headache," he murmured, giving a soft laugh. He straightened, glancing around. "She came in with me, she's here now, so I can introduce you."  
  
Riddick nodded his ascent, following the owner's eyes. James spotted her on the dance floor, pointed out the back of her head to Riddick.  
  
At the bobbing, spiraled hair, Riddick felt a lump in his stomach.  
  
James stuck his index and middle finger in his mouth, pursed his lips and gave a short, loud and very shrill whistle. He followed it with, "Laqueta!"  
  
The girl turned, and the lump in Riddick's stomach turned to stone. The high cheekbones and heart shaped lips, the slight slant to the eyes and olive hued skin …  
  
"She's your daughter?" he choked out, involuntarily.  
  
James kept his eyes on his daughter, beckoning her over with his hand. "Yeah, beaut, ain't she? Got everything from her mother. Met her in Greece, on Earth. That's where Leigh was born, too. Leigh is short for Laqueta, which she hates … damn, obstinate girl. You'll have to go over to her."  
  
Leigh had sent her father a rather rude look, waving her own hand at him and turning back to a man whose fancy she obviously held, continuing to dance amid the throbbing dance floor. James sighed, shrugged his shoulders and looked to Riddick.  
  
"She got her attitude from her mother as well," he grinned. He stood up, smoothing down the front of his shirt and straightening his jacket. "Well, I'll let you go and introduce yourself when you have the chance. Drop her off at home tonight, she has her own car, and I'll bring her by again tomorrow; she rather enjoys the club scene. Oh, and thank you, Richard."  
  
He clapped Riddick on the back once more, and then disappeared into the crowd, making his way to the front door and disappearing out into the street. Riddick followed him out with his eyes, and then turned his attention to Leigh. She was still on the dance floor, changing rhythms to match the new song as it came on, grinding hips with a new dance partner.  
  
Riddick swiveled back to the bar and emptied the rest of his glass. "Keith!"  
  
The bar tender made his way over, dropping to his elbows, leaning forward to Riddick. "So what'd the boss say, man?"  
  
"Made me his daughters bodyguard."  
  
"Hey, cushy!" Keith began refilling Riddicks drink. He let him, emptied it, and asked for another.  
  
"That's not it, though," he continued.  
  
"Oh?"  
  
"She's the girl I saved from the mercs last week."  
  
"No shittin'!" exclaimed Keith with a wide smile. "Sweet! You think that's why he asked you?"  
  
"No, he didn't even knew she was running away from them," Riddick muttered. Keith gave a shrug in return. "She's over on the dance floor," Riddick said, turning to point her out to Keith.  
  
Keith nodded appreciatively. "A lot of Grecians have actually settled here. Humidity, they say. Hey, look, I gotta get back to the customers. You have fun."  
  
Keith left the bottle of gin with Riddick, moving down to the opposite end. Riddick emptied and refilled his glass four more times and waited most of an hour before he got up to go see Leigh. He took his goggles off as he hit the dance floor. It was darker here, and the strobes didn't bother his eyes so much. Riddick could feel the alcohol working its way through his system, but ignored it for the time being.  
  
He neared the girl, moving to the music. She was with the first man he'd seen her with again, back end pressed up against him as she gyrated to the beat. He stopped beside them, tapped the man on the shoulder.  
  
"Can I butt in?" he asked, shouting and leaning in to be heard over the music.  
  
Leigh barely looked at him, barely noticing that her partner had ceased his movements at the interruption.  
  
"Fuck off, dude," shouted her partner, turning away.  
  
Riddick paused, took a breath, then dropped his hand onto the guys shoulder.  
  
"Hey—"  
  
Riddick dug his fingers in, clenching them together tightly. The guy let out a shout of surprise, then one of pain as he dropped beneath Riddicks hand, trying to pull his arm from the grip.  
  
"Yo, let go! You can have 'er!"  
  
Riddick let go. The guy moved hurriedly away, rubbing at his already bruising shoulder and muttering beneath his breath. Leigh had never broken pace, arms above her head and swinging to the music. Riddick took the other mans place behind her, dropping his hands on her hips and leaning his mouth down to her ear.  
  
"Laqueta."  
  
Leigh started, dropping her arms and whirling around and out of Riddicks grasp. She stared blankly at him, and then recognition dawned on her face. She stepped backwards, raising her eyebrows in question and folding her arms over her chest.  
  
Riddick smiled brightly, fanning his hands out at his side. "Remember me?"  
  
She tilted her head, pursing her lips and nodding as if she had to think about it. Riddick nodded back.  
  
"Good. Hey, where you going?"  
  
Leigh had started past him, and he stretched out an arm to stop her, catching hold of hers. She looked down at the hand on her bicep, pulled her eyes up to his face. Riddick forcefully directed her back into the center of the dance floor, directing her in front of him.  
  
"C'mon, don't leave just yet. Music's just getting good."  
  
He let her go, dropped his hands to her waist again and pulled her to him, moving quickly to the beat. She let herself be lead for a few seconds, and then finally gave in, matching his movements as they began to dance.  
  
He leaned down again to her ear, saying: "Jim's asked me to be your bodyguard. S'okay with you, Leigh?" He heard himself slur the last, wondered briefly if finishing off the bottle had been too much.  
  
Leigh shrugged indifference, tilting backwards into his chest, rolling her hips against his. Riddick trailed his hands up her sides and back down to her hips.  
  
"Don't talk much, Leigh?" he asked, speaking in normal tones despite the lack of distance. Another shrug was his only answer. "No insults meant, Leigh," he continued. "I'm sure you've got a beautiful voice. I bet I could make you scream," he dropped the last to a whisper, mustering all the suggestive tone behind it he could in his slightly tipsy state.  
  
Leigh's hand came up, middle finger clearly seen in the dim lights; she moved forward an inch, separating their bodies. Riddick dug his fingers the slightest into the material of her pants and pulled her roughly back to him.  
  
"Hey," he said, eyebrows pulled together in a show of irritation. "I'm only being nice."  
  
She stepped forward again, enough force in it this time to pull his hands from her waist. She continued forward, weaving through the crowd towards an empty table. Riddick shouted out her name, and then followed her.  
  
He came up to the table as she was going through a black purse.  
  
"What's the problem?" he asked; he came to a stop in front of her, close enough to prevent her from leaving again.  
  
She cast him a lidded look accompanied by a sneer. She dropped the purse back on the vinyl, shuffled through several cue cards she'd pulled from it. She evidently found what she was looking for, pulled it from the deck and held it up in front of Riddicks face. He blinked, took it in a hand.  
  
I'm mute, you asshole was typed in bold letters in the center. Riddick blinked again, took a breath as realization hit, dropped his hand. Leigh was sitting, staring intently at him in undisguised anger.  
  
Shit.  
  
Chapter 4 soon… 


End file.
